


A Letter for Brienne

by Ruby_Eyes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Poetry, Crack, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Love Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:49:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruby_Eyes/pseuds/Ruby_Eyes
Summary: This is a rough draft of Jaime's letter for Brienne, written with rough assistance from Tyrion and Bronn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jaime had this handwritten but his font style is not something understandable, let alone available in computers yet, so, I simply typed the contents.
> 
> This non-native no one owns nothing but her big JB love.

 

 

 

Dear ~~Wench~~ ~~Brienne~~ Wench (Tyrion’s stupid to think you hate it when I call you that),

 

                First, I want you to know that this utterly stupid idea of writing a love letter wasn’t mine. Podrick says it works because it did work on little Sansa, so maybe, just maybe, it would work on you. I highly doubted that but this is actually more reasonable than Bronn’s idea. ~~of fucking you to oblivion to achieve my goal~~ Although I really don’t have much to say. I really don’t. But Tyrion insists that I talk too much and I might say something wrong before I even get to the only thing I actually want to say. So, according to ~~the little shithead~~ him, I should put my “initial babbles” on paper and get straight to the point when we talk after you’ve read this. I wonder why they think I talk too much, him and Bronn. I don’t talk too much. Right? I mean, really, it’s not _too much._ Besides, you do like it when I talk... a little. Maybe not? (I can imagine you rolling your eyes.)

                ...

                ...

                Uh, Pod said he started his letter by telling Sansa how beautiful she is and enumerating things that he likes about her.

                I would’ve done that... But I am fully aware of how much you hate it when I tell you how beautiful you are. If I do that here, you’ll probably just throw this thing away and my plans would be crushed OR you will smack me on my head a lot more than Tyrion already has since I started writing. ~~Ow! He fucking did it again.~~ So, I’ll just start by telling you what I like about my beloved stubborn wench.

                Hmm...

                I like you, obviously. (Well, not in the beginning, but we did get over that godsdamned stage of our relationship.) I like your pretentious scowls, wench. You know, when you scowl at me for staring at you for a long time, but deep inside you’re actually smiling. Hah! Don’t you dare deny that! I know you too well. And your blushes don’t lie. You may not be aware but when you do that – scowl while blushing so much – I could stare at you for just a lifetime more. It’s so fucking adorable.

                Also, I like that group of freckles on your left thigh, the one that can form a letter “J”. The heavens really are telling the world that you were made for me. I know, I know. You may think that just because you have many other freckles around that area, you can form any other letter, but I’m a hundred percent certain that the heavens stamped you with my initial. You’re mine, wench, as I am yours. And those freckles are the proof. I really love them, you know. And you know they love me back. You know what they do to me. (But I can’t write it here because my ~~ass of a~~ brother is behind me. ~~He hit me again.~~ )

                I like your voice a lot, too. I like to hear it first thing in the morning and last thing before I sleep ~~and loudly while I make you scream.~~ Sorry for calling too often when you’re away. I can’t last a day without hearing your voice.

                I also like the feel of the goosebumps on your arms every time I kiss you behind your neck by surprise. Well, there, and at the bottom of your ear ~~, then lower and lower.~~  I love the way you smell, ~~especially after I get you well and thoroughly fu~~

                ~~I~~ ~~like~~ l ~~ove the taste of~~ l ~~ove tasting you everywhere but most of all down~~  I wanted to tell you about how each of my five senses love and adore you but my ~~stupid~~ brother thinks you won’t appreciate vulgarity in a love letter. ~~I’m rolling my eyes.~~ Well, let me just compensate that with something else that my eyes dearly love. Your eyes, wench; those big, blue, bold and beautiful chips of sapphires that talk to my heart in the most peculiar and amazing ways. They talk to me when you refuse to say things you want to say. They give me answers ~~when you won’t answer me when I ask if you like what I do to you in bed.~~ When you look at me, I feel like having gone through all seven heavens and beyond. I’d like to keep your gaze all to myself. But I guess that’s not possible. You need sleep. Anyway, I know how much you stare at me when you think I’m not looking. Don’t worry. I don’t mind.

                ...

                ...

                ~~Pod used poetry??? Aha! I’m good at that!~~

~~I think there’s a lot of scientist blood in me~~

~~‘Cause I’d like to do you on a table, periodically.~~

 

~~No?? Tyrion’s hard to please. He said I should stop writing my thoughts. Just one more~~

~~Wench, you is fine~~

~~Dat ass is divine~~

~~It’s finer than wine~~

~~Got flawless design~~

~~Wench, you is fine~~

~~Dat smle is benign~~

~~Yo teeth got some shine~~

~~Ima take you to dine~~

~~Wench, you is fine~~

~~You at least is a 9~~

~~Ima make you a sign~~

~~Dat says “Wench, please be mine”~~

~~Wench, you is fine~~

~~Them stars are aligned~~

~~So, I think it is time~~

~~Wench, be my valentine~~

                ~~Bronn likes it, but Tyrion doesn’t. Says he already read it in Pinterest. Dammit! And the little shit says changing bitch to wench doesn’t make it better. Hmph! He says I make terrible poems anyway so I should stop. I’ll prove him wrong.~~

 

My dream woman is not petite

She’s not conventionally pretty

She terribly hates my wit

But still chooses to stay with me.

 

My dream woman is not charming

She doesn’t strive to look lovely

But in this world, she’s my fave thing

The only one that makes me happy.

 

My dream woman scowls too often

But I don’t mind, no, not really

‘cause she won’t smile for other men

Her smiles are reserved only for me.

 

My dream woman’s tastefully freckly

Now, you should figure, wench, that’s you

Know that I don’t need a lady of beauty

Because all I dream of is you.

 

                ^_^ Tyrion shit bricks! I made my own poem!

                But Bronn said it’s a fooked up fookity. >.< Fuck his opinion.

...

...

...

                Whoohoo! Finally, the two assholes left to get food! I can write in peace.

                ...

                But I think I just ran out of things to say.

                <3 <3 <3

                I didn’t know writing a love letter is this hard. Well, at least it’s not as hard as when I had to do my first confession. I just asked you to be my girlfriend but you ran away like I asked you to murder someone.

                Don’t you ever do that again, Brienne. Having you avoid me then killed me and sent me through all seven hells. Don’t let your insecurities do that to me... us again, huh? Trust me when I say I want you from the tips and split ends of your straw hair down to the calluses on your heels. You keep telling me that my fucked up past doesn’t define my whole being but you don’t believe me when I say your lack of mainstream beauty and whatever those idiotic men in your past said don’t define your fuckability or your personality, much less your whole being.

                Tell me about your worries instead, wench. Don’t run. Not again. Let me kiss those worries away. I’ll give you something warmer and more reassuring than a bear hug. I’ll give you a lion hug. And I’ll never let go.

                Let me protect you the same way you protected me from myself and the people who always thought the worst of me. Let me protect you from your own insecurities, too. Let me keep you in my lion’s den.

                And then, let’s make a whole pride of lions and lionesses of our own, a pride we’ll protect together. I want us to have cubs with blue eyes, golden mane, scary scowls and honourable hearts.

...

...

                I can’t think of anything grand to end this.

                But meet me at the rooftop once you finish reading. I have a very important question to ask.

 

Hear me roar my love,

Jaime

                P.S. I forgot to say I love you, wench.

                ~~This letter is damn long. Finally... PEE TIME!!!~~

**Note from Podrick:** Mr. Lannister, please rewrite this a bit more legibly if you wish to have your grammar and punctuation checked by Shireen’s dad. I’ll come by again in an hour.

 

 **Bronn’s note:** What a piece of shit! I told you to just fuck her brains out till she says yes!

 

 **Tyrion’s Note:** Ignore Bronn. You did pretty well. And sorry for hitting you. Your idiot brain (if you have one) asked for it. Call me if you need help rewriting. Seriously, you write like shit. Bronn and I will just be at the balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know who to give credit for the poem "Shit Bitch, You is Fine" because I just saw that in Pinterest with no proper credits. If anyone knows who made this funny piece, please comment so I could give credit to where it belongs. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A response and a response to the response. :D

_Dear Jaime,_

_I wrote this reply to your lovely love letter even when I already said yes, not because you insisted on it, sweetheart, but because I was really touched with your efforts for that romantic proposal. I guess Pod is right when he told you that love letters still work these days. Uhm, baby, I probably looked really scandalized when you told me about the alternative to the letter (Bronn’s idea of doing me to oblivion to make me say yes). But he would have been right about that alternative, sugar. I always say ‘yes’ when we do it. Repeatedly, right? Only, it’s a yes for a different purpose and a totally different level of excitement. *winks*_

  
_As for your claim about not talking too much, you do, darling. You certainly do talk too much. But I don’t mind... much._  
_Thank you for your honesty, honey; and for knowing that I would not appreciate being called beautiful. Thank you for knowing me that well, cupcake. Well, you do know me much more than that._

  
_And I know you quite well, too, sweetie pie. That’s why I know you’ll be pleased if I let you know about the things I love about you too. Here it is._

 

 _These beard burns you have marked me with on my belly and thighs_  
_Are such favourite things of my skin and my eyes._  
_The smell of your hair when I spoon you at night_  
_Is so dear, so alluring, something I really like._

 _The sweet puddles I turn into inside my underpants_  
_When you melt me with the warm caresses of your hands,_  
_The fullness that I feel whenever you’re inside me_  
_And the fact that you can shame all other men’s jimmies,_

 _The sound of your gentle snores after a satisfying fuck or two,_  
_The sore feeling I get in mornings after riding you,_  
_The taste of your mouth when you stop mid-sentence just to kiss me,_  
_All these things I love and treasure as I love you, my Jaime._

  
_I love you to the Seven Heavens and back, husband. And I look forward, too, to our beautiful cubs and the many repeats of the process of creating them._

 _Your wench now roaring with you,_  
_Brienne_

  
_P.S.: Sorry about Tyrion hitting you when you were making your letter for me. As consolation, I’ll let you grab my ass anytime you want during dinners with our fathers._

 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

IDIOT,

  
          WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS IS THIS???

  
          Just because I refused to put in writing my “romantic” response to your “romantic” love letter DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN PRETEND TO BE ME AND WRITE AN INVENTED RESPONSE.

  
          Do you only do stupid things like this every time I go out to get groceries on weekends? If I didn’t find this and that mail stamp in your coat, would you have sent this through post? Would you have read it out loud and bragged to Tyrion and Bronn once it returns?

  
          And what’s with all the ridiculous endearment terms? I don’t call you any of that. Honey? Darling? Sweetie pie? Cupcake? BABY!? Seriously? At your age? >.< And I can’t and don’t wink!!!!! And I will NEVER write a letter, much less a poem this vulgar. No wonder Tyrion kept hitting you when you wrote your love letter for me. Who says I’ll start calling husband now? We’ve only been engaged two days and you’re already making me rethink my answer. Ugh!

          Oh, I DO mind your ~~big mouth~~ endless talking. MUCH.

          Also, what is it with you and these awful, dirty poems these days? I do NOT like these beard burns! (much?) Okay, the smell of hair, I can give you that; but, damn, aren’t you terribly narcissistic? You put to shame other men’s jimmies? Puddles in my pants? AND YOU THOUGHT OF SENDING THIS THROUGH THE POST!? What if somebody read this, huh? And just so you know, your snores are not gentle, idiot.

          If you’re so desperate for a written response to your cheesy proposal, okay. But this is the closest it’ll get to a “romantic” response.

  
.

  
.

  
.

  
          To sum it all up, I love you. But you didn’t get your description right. I love you to the Seven Heavens and seven more times back and forth. I adore you more than I can probably ever physically, verbally and publicly show, probably even more than my heart can contain.

  
          About that thing you call “J-spots” on my thigh -- that's not a thing. These freckles really can’t form a letter J. BUT, stamp or no stamp, I am yours, Jaime, yours alone.

          I’m sorry for being too afraid to admit that in the beginning. And thank you for being confident enough for and about the two of us. Don’t worry about me running away again. I can’t. I won’t last a day without you even if you irritate me to the seventh hell.

          I trust you, Jaime. I feel the safest in your arms. You lion embrace is my protection and lion’s den. And you’re right about me looking forward to our little cubs and that whole pride we’ll be making.

  
          Just don’t be too crass in telling people about our “family planning”.

  
         I seriously get annoyed that you talk too much. But if that’s what it takes for me to hear you telling me untiringly how much you love me, I guess I’ll let you talk all you want. Besides, the endless talking is a part of you. And I like, treasure, adore and love you just for being you, Jaime. My Jaime.

          I love you, husband-to-be.

 

I am not a wench,  
The Real Brienne

 

P.S.: Do NOT dare rewrite this then send it through post. I WILL END YOU.

  
P.P.S: You will NOT grab my ass during dinner with MY father.

  
P.P.P.S.: Take the pizza and Dothraki takeout to the bedroom when you get home, we need to talk about this pathetic invented response of yours, idiot. *winks*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack! It posted! I was supposed to just save this chapter as a draft first. But, oh well. Sorry about the errors. So hard to edit on my phone.


End file.
